A good hot turkey sandwich is diner perfection

I try very hard — and perhaps even succeed sometimes — not to be a snob about too many things.

But one of the things I readily acknowledge being a snob about is diners.

When you grow up in a small town in upstate New York, you learn to appreciate a proper diner. I even worked in one in high school, making money for insurance on my first car.

The best ones have regulars, preferably ones who always seem to be there at the same time and always sit together, without ever planning it.

The staff and customers know each other by name, and — this is important — customers should be able to refill their own coffee, no questions asked.

Continue reading “A good hot turkey sandwich is diner perfection”

One dollar … hopefully the first of many

When I was growing up in upstate New York, going out to eat meant one of the local diners in Schoharie, the town where I went to school 15 minutes from my parents’ house.

The fast-food places were a few towns over, and for whatever reason, pizza places didn’t really stick. (I’m actually kind of surprised there’s a taco restaurant there now.)

For years, my Friday night dinner was hot turkey sandwiches, mashed potatoes (instant) and chocolate milk. Continue reading “One dollar … hopefully the first of many”